


A chat with a Queen Rider

by ScribbleJotterAmy



Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 12:34:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5417276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribbleJotterAmy/pseuds/ScribbleJotterAmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nandria, Rannath's rider is very interested in the new candidates for her queen's latest clutch, and has made a point of meeting each of the queen candidates.  She meets the newest arrival Lady Ingva in the Library Cavern, to have a chat and to assess her potential.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A chat with a Queen Rider

A chat with a Queen rider.

 

Ingva entered the records room quietly in case anyone was in there studying. She was glad she had, because sat at the great table was one of the junior weyrwomen; though junior was relative given her silvery hair and advanced age. She took a second to locate the fireplaces and then hefted the heavy basket of cleaning materials over. She set-to with cleaning them out and re-laying them ready for evening. She made sure to make a proper job of it. It wouldn't do for the records room to be smoked out by a poorly laid fire so it was some minutes before she realised that the light scratching of the queen rider's quill had silenced.

She looked around, alarmed to meet the woman's interested green eyed gaze.

“I'm sorry if I have interrupted your studies weyrwoman.” She said, rubbing her ash coated hands against her skirts nervously.

“You didn't disturb me, if that's what you are worrying about. You'd be one of the new candidates?” The woman said in a reassuring tone of voice.

“Yes ma'am.” Ingva said, relieved she wouldn't be receiving a reprimand.

“What's your name candidate?”

“Ingva, ma’am from High Reaches Hold.”

“The Reaches? You'd be Ingron's…granddaughter then?”

“Yes ma'am.”

“Then what are you doing cleaning out the fireplaces?” She sounded genuinely interested, unlike some of the riders, who had been amused.

“Headwoman Krysal set me the chore.”

“And you don't mind doing it?” She sounded surprised at Ingva's matter of fact tone.

“Not at all. I get to chat with riders who are still in their weyrs. They are full of all sorts of interesting titbits about dragon care and hatchings. Besides, it's nothing I've not done before.”

“I can tell. You've made a neat job of it.”

“Thank you ma'am”

“Don't bother with Ma'aming me. I'm not decrepit yet and neither is Rannath.” She said with a grin.

“You're weyrwoman Nandria?” Ingva said, surprised. Didn't a weyrwoman always stay with her clutching Queen?

“That I am.” She said, amused at the girl's surprise. 

“Then I am very pleased to meet you Ma'..weyr...Milady.”

“So you’ve been here long enough know that in the weyr we queen riders dislike the title weyrwoman, but ma'am makes me feel old and milady is too formal for my tastes. Call me Nandria.”

“Thank you...Nandria. My duty to you and your queen. I really must get these fires finished though. The headwoman was quite insistent about getting them done in a timely manner.”

“And I'll wager she thinks you'll make a hash out of it, thus proving her little theory about holder girls being a feckless lot of little flip-skirts with little mind, and less ability to do anything other than look pretty?” Nandria asked knowingly.

Ingva blushed, but kept her eyes raised to the weyrwoman's face. “I wouldn’t quite put it that way, but the women in the lower caverns do tend to just assume that because I'm a Lord Holders grand daughter, I’ve been cosseted and spoiled all my life.”

“Hmm, I thought so. Ingron was never the type to stand for idleness or cosset someone because of their sex or breeding. Unfortunately for us the vast majority of female candidates brought in for queen eggs tend to be. Krysal likes to humble them. Don't let it get you down. If you are doing all your chores this well, she'll be less harsh on you soon enough and I won't keep you from your task. I should get this done before Rannath wakes, she'll want me back at her side. Have a good day candidate Ingva. I look forward to seeing you at the hatching.”

“Thank you ma...Nandria.” Ingva said, curtseying to the rider. Then, as Nandria turned back to her paperwork, clearly dismissing her, she went back to the fireplace to complete her task before moving on to the fire places in the other dragon weyrs she had been assigned. 

That one is interesting Rannath said sleepily from the hatching cavern.

Oh? You like her?

She is sensible, and not stupid.

Yes she certainly has a good head on her shoulders. Ingie would have seen to that if nothing else. Though I'm not surprised Krysal thought her feckless with those looks though. Do you know who brought her in?

Felicanth's rider. Rannath supplied promptly. She was very interested in the candidates until they impressed; gauging their suitability for her children, particularly when she had a queen egg on the sands. In spite of herself, over the turns, Nandria had become interested too. She'd formulated more than one theory about why it interested her queen so, and as senior rider had implemented several improvements to the candidacy and hatching process.

No wonder Krysal thinks her a brainless flipskirt. It's normally the type he goes for. What about the other girls?

The healer girl has potential and is another sensible sort; the trader girl has been in seven different weyrs in the ten days she's been here. I'm not keen on her attitude to the riders. She seems too flighty and prone to disobedience and the others are exactly what Felicanth's rider usually goes for. I don't like them, though Wioth thinks they would be good for the eggs...greens he thinks. Rannath said, pretty much matching word for word both Nandria and weyrwoman Saella's assessment of the queen candidates. Ingva had been the latest girl brought in and Nandria had wanted to assess her for herself; so she had checked the candidate chores board, not really surprised by the assignments, and had waited for the girl in the least conspicuous of the caverns she'd been assigned to clean fireplaces in.

And the weyrbred?

The weyr girls are well enough, but again Wioth thinks they'd be better on greens. I agree. The boys...well there's plenty of choice from them, some good potential and a good age range.

So who do you think should see the Egg? Nandria asked, dismissing the boys from her calculations.

I haven't decided. I'll keep an eye on the healer and holder girls and let you know. Perhaps both should be shown. Rannath said, her mind touch drifting off in search of the two candidates that most interested her. Oh and Quillith says she has sighted a trader caravan on the weyr road. They'll arrive about an hour before sun fall.

Really? That is interesting news! Nandria said, well pleased. Thank her for me will you?

I already have. For a green, she's very thoughtful.

Nandria continued scribing various journal entries, smiling at her queens condescension of the little green. Quillith had been in the same clutch as Rannath and had always shared an unusual bond. It had been an unusual clutch, twenty eggs and Quillith the only other female to hatch. When she was satisfied that the girl was well out of sight and hearing, she put her quill away and returned the books to their homes. The scribing could wait, and it had been so very long since she had had a good soak in the bath in her and Rannath's weyr. Rannath would need her eventually, but for now she was occupied surveying the candidates and gossiping with her little green sister, and she could use the time to her benefit.

* * * * *

 

Ingva sat on a rock by the weyr lake watching Timor and Belior rise over the rim of the weyrbowl sending glimmers of buttery light across the lake. She was tired from the chores. The day had ended on a good note when a trader caravan had come into the weyr an hour before the evening meal, which had been far more lively than usual. The riders, traders, weyrfolk and the other candidates were all still partying, enjoying the wine that the headwoman had laid out for the occasion. She'd had enough of the wine though, and the riders were getting drunk enough to be touchy. As she didn't feel like having that sort of company that evening, she'd excused herself from the dancing throng, and headed out into the cool night air. 

The arrival of trader caravans were always good days, even at the weyr it seemed. She'd been pleased to find a bolt of silvery grey cloth which would make a lovely gather gown – if she ever got time to make one - and at a reasonable price. There'd been boiled sweets too, the fruity kind that were so common in Nerat, but so rare up here. She'd spent more marks than she should have on the purchases, but it had been worth it.

“Mark for your thoughts?” came the weyrwoman's voice out of the twilight evening.

“What?” Ingva said, jumping at the sound.

“I didn't mean to interrupt you, but you seem sad and a young thing like you should be enjoying herself at the weyr.” Nandria said kindly.

“Oh, no, I always look like that when I'm thinking.” Ingva replied hurriedly, her sombre face lightening back up again.

“Anything interesting?” Nandria asked.

“Oh, nothing much. Work, the traders, what I’m going to do with the bold of cloth I bought…but also my chances at impression.” Ingva said honestly.

“Well you've been searched out of how many other girls on Pern? Your chances are a lot better off than most. Walk with me?” She added, indicating the gaping black entrance to the hatching cavern.

Indira rose. “Oh I know that. I'm just thinking about a comment Gran once made about weyrbred candidates. Do you want me to carry any of that?” She added, nodding to the weyrwoman's burden. She was carrying a basket, a klah pot and several fresh glows.

“Oh? What did she say? And who is she to know so much about candidates and hatchings?” Nandria said disapproval tingeing her voice, as she handed over the basket; but Ingva did her best to unruffle the weyrwoman's feathers gently.

“My gran is Lavine, Kibeth's rider, of Ista”

“Ah! A rider. Why didn't you tell me so earlier?” Nandria chided, now strongly suspecting what Lavine had said, and partially understanding the girls demeanour.

“It didn't seem important earlier.”

“So what was this comment about candidates?” She asked, as they ambled slowly into the cavern and across the heated sands towards the raised dais. Rannath was apparently dozing, shielding the eggs from the chill coming from the opening with her body, so none were visible to the two women.

“It was to do with queen egg candidates. She said the queens rarely chose from weyrbred girls.”

“Well, that's true enough, though there are the odd ones who are the exception to the norm.” Nandria added, encouragingly. “And you aren't weyr bred.”

“But mother was.”

“How did she come to be Lady Holder?” Nandria asked, genuinely surprised. Her interest piqued even further. She'd never heard of a weyrbred leaving the weyr for a hold before. To a craft yes, that frequently happened, though most usually returned to ply their craft at the weyr, but never had she heard of a weyrbred leaving to hold.

Ingva smiled brilliantly at Nandria, her whole face lighting up. “Mother and Father met at a spring Gather in Telgar, that Gran had taken mother to, and dad was attending as Grandfather's deputy and they fell in love there. They kept in contact after mother returned to the weyr, and they espoused one another a turn later.” Ingva said dreamily about the love match “with Lord Ingron’s blessing.”

“Oh yes! I remember that. I thought she was the daughter of a crafter in the weyr, not dragon spawn.” She wondered just how much Lavine had had to pay as dowry to secure Ingron’s blessing. Given his past relationships with women from weyrs, it would not have been a simple task. She’d been amazed he’d allowed his granddaughter the chance to come...but then…it was Rannath’s queen egg. Did he still hold a flame for her after all these years?

“Hmm...at least your father is a decent holder. And if your mother was weyr bred, that explains much.”

“She is very liberal in some things” Ingva said, giggling. “Lady Gregillan visited us recently from Crom, and was quite scandalised!”

Nandria chuckled too. “Holders can be so hidebound.”

“She's not so liberal as Lady Gregillan thinks her. Yes we girls have some freedoms most hold girls can barely dream of, but we do have to earn them.” Ingva said earnestly “As long as we work hard in the hold, and prove we aren't silly or thoughtless, and follow Lord Ingron’s rules to the letter, there is little she would ban us from doing."

“And that hard work includes doing the chores the drudges do?” Nandria asked.

“Well you can't hold effectively if you don't know how your staff work and live can you? You need to get some idea of how much time a task should take so you don't overload your staff.”

“Very true, and it's something we live by at the weyr too.”

“Yes, that was where mother learned her 'holder' skills; through gran mostly, and headwoman Irella.”

“So if you work hard and aren't stupid you get to go out without a chaperone?”

“Sometimes at gathers, and we are permitted to take wine sparingly. And we are given the time and freedom to follow our interests in education and the crafts, and pretty much anything goes there.” Ingva added.

They'd reached the dais now, and Ingva saw it was very comfortably appointed with everything a weyrwoman (or several) stuck on the sands with her queen could need, tastefully screened from the view of the entrance and the hatching stands, and with slots for more screens to divide the space further. She set her basket on a table, and Nandria put the klah jug down and fished around in a cupboard for mugs. Ingva nodded when the weyrwoman asked with a tilt of her hand to a second mug asking if she wanted a drink.

“I don't like having too much wine in my system, or beer for that matter." She said in explanation "There is drinkable water here, but I prefer klah or juice if I can get it.” Nandria said, sipping her cup while Ingva adjusted the sweetness of hers. 

“I'd had enough wine for an evening.”

“A young thing like you should be dancing the night away back in the main cavern, too much wine or not, and if you're worried about the eggs hatching, you shouldn't. They won't be ready for another sevenday at least. Or...were you worrying about being a candidate, when you believe your weyr blood will influence the young queen against you? ” Nandria said shrewdly.

“It wasn't quite that...I wasn't worrying. It was more the fact that everyone else was getting drunk, and...well...”

Nandria guessed from her blush “and while you are liberal to a point, the bronze riders are getting a bit too up close and personal for a night yes?”

“Well, I don't really know them yet...if you know what I mean?” Ingva asked desperately trying to find the right words.

“I know what you mean. Queen candidates are like a sapfly trap. The bronzes are all trying to prove that they will be the best weyrmate...before it's ever decided which one of you will be the queen rider!”

“Oh, is that it?” Ingva said, relieved. 

“That's it exactly. They did the same thing to me when I was a candidate. Some things never change.” Nandria confirmed, shaking her head.

“Well, anyway, I thought it best to plead needing a bit of fresh air. If I don't impress, I want to be able to return home and be able to make a good marriage. I can't do that if I follow Laeri's example. But I did get to thinking about gran's comment. I probably have a better chance of impressing a green. There are more of them after all.”

“Very true. There'll be something between ten to fifteen in a clutch this size.”

“And only one queen egg.”

“Yes.”

Rannath woke then, raising her head and looking in their direction. It intimidated Ingva, as if the queen had heard everything she had said, and disapproved.

“So you don't want to impress the young queen?” Nandria was surprised.

“Oh it would be the greatest honour I could receive! I mean no disrespect ma…Nandria, but given my heritage, and the odds, I'd probably be better trying for a green. The queen has plenty of choice, and in a Pass, riding green would be very worthwhile for all the dangers. I’ve been learning they are some of the most valuable dragons during a pass?

“Aye, they are. And you believe the pass is coming?” Nandria’s tone was carefully neutral

Ingva thought about it. “To be honest. I don’t know. I’m not sure I’ll believe it is coming until I see a Threadfall . The signs are there, but nothing happened two hundred years ago when the same thing happened. I can understand Grandfather’s reluctance to tighten the rules and restrict the people, and spend so many marks preparing for something that might not happen….but…It would be safer to prepare…just in case two hundred years ago was some unexplained anomaly. It would be so much worse if we aren’t prepared and the Pass comes…and how many lives will be lost because we didn’t believe the signs?”

I like this one.

“Perhaps.” Nandria came to her decision. She looked at the girl, her head cocked questioningly. “Would you like to see the eggs?”

Ingva's eyes rounded. “C…could I? I know the candidate master will be bringing us to see them tomorrow, but I've never seen a dragon egg up close before."

Nandria grinned mischievously. "Well, don't go telling anyone about this, you'll see them a fair bit closer than you'll be seeing them tomorrow, and if any of the other candidates found out, I'd be flooded with requests to see the eggs. Rannath doesn't like crowding.”

“Oh, I won't tell anyone, weyrwoman.”

“Call me Nandria, Ingva.”

“Sorry, I forgot.” Ingva gave Nandria an excited smile

“That's fine. Come on.” She put her empty mug on the table and led the awed girl out onto the sands towards Rannath and her precious clutch of eggs.

“Oh” The soft exclamation of wonder escaped Ingva's lips as she got her first glimpse of a dragon egg. It was one of the smaller ones, a pale creamy colour with green and blue swirls.

“Beautiful aren't they?” Nandria said.

“Yessss....” The girl seemed to be almost transfixed, and her hand slowly reached out....but she snatched it back, as Rannath shifted her enormous bulk to reveal her prize. The egg she fussed over more than any other, the one she guarded with such ferocity from other queens, her pride, her joy. Her daughter. The buttery golden egg gleamed slightly. It captured Ingva’s gaze immediately. She was actually a little disappointed. On a closer look, the buttery shimmery gold, was merely a reflection of the radiance of the golden queen who guarded it, and was actually more a dull buff sandy brown mottled with paler and darker patches. It would be fairly dull looking compared to the swirls and patterns on the more colourful eggs, but there was no doubting the egg was the largest in the clutch.

“Is that...?” She asked softly, not daring to disturb the Queen, who lay there watching both women intently, ready to protect the egg at a moments notice.

“That's the queen egg.” Nandria confirmed, the pride evident in her voice. “It'll be our last I think.” She added wistfully. “I never thought she'd rise again after the last time. We're neither of us young, and with it being interval, they don't mate as often anyway though the frequency of flights has increased the past few years. But she's done the weyr proud. Haven't you Rannath?”

The queen lowered her slightly grey tinged muzzle so her rider could caress it. “forty eggs, and a queen egg. An amazing clutch for an interval queen even in the run up to a pass.” Nandria said, sounding rightfully pleased. ”Even at the height of a pass I've not read of a queen clutching more than forty five eggs at a time. Thirty five is the norm in a pass, twenty during interval.” She said, chatting on.

The queen egg seemed to be drawing Ingva to it from the way the girl moved. Nandria could tell that she wanted to touch it. The way the girl kept darting glances at Rannath told her she feared the queen's displeasure.

“Rannath won't mind if you touch the egg Ingva.”

It was all the encouragement Ingva needed. Her hand came out slowly, caressing the top of the egg until her palm was flat against the slightly mottled shell. Eyes closed, she used her other senses. The egg was oh so warm, the shell hard and mostly smooth. She could smell the sands too – a combination of hot dust, tinged with the musky scent of the queen and the lighter floral fragrance Nandria wore. Eyes open again, her hand slid down the shell feeling the light indentations and imperfections in the smoothness of the shell, and the warmth that radiated from it.

Nandria allowed her to commune with the egg.

Rannath, would you be so kind as to tell Saella or Mossath that the choice has been made, and she's seen and touched the egg?

I will. Do you think my daughter will chose her? She can sense her out there you know. And you, but she knows you are mine.

We'll not know until the hatching love, but it worked with Saella and Briony, and the records suggest others. 

And if it works?

If it works, we'll have a much better method of making sure we don't end up with weyrwomen like that useless Vemora.

“Seen enough?” Nandria asked, when Ingva finally took her hand from the coveted gold egg.

"Probably not, but it will soon be lights out in the candidate barracks, and I'd better get going.” She said, regretfully tearing her eyes from the egg to face the weyrwoman.

“Yes, you don't want a mark against your name. I'll see you tomorrow candidate.”

“Goodnight Weyrwoman Nandria, and thank you” Ingva said, formally bowing to the woman. “My duty to you Rannath.” She said, giving the queen a deep curtsey. Rannath rumbled approvingly. Ingva stepped away from the queen hurriedly, in case it was anger, but Nandria laughed, dispelling that fear. "Off you go Ingva and good night to you.”

Yes, I do like this one!

Ask Mossath to pass onto Saella that I want this one as my runner until the hatching. It will give her more time to see the egg, and I can be with you more often. You've been so very good about letting me go out dearest.

Rannath rumbled, pleased with the praise. You needed to see the candidates, but now I need you to help guard my eggs!


End file.
